Wicked Delights Of A Bridal Bed Page 19

  Whatever her motivation, he decided, he would have the truth out of her soon enough.

  Then they would see.

  Setting down his glass with a thump, he surged to his feet. The edges of his robe flapped around his calves as he crossed the distance between them in a few long-legged strides. Stopping beside the bed, he gazed down, detecting fresh anxiety in her eyes.

  “So, you’ve had a change of heart, have you?” he said, not worrying if he loomed over her. “I thought you were tired and didn’t want to be with me tonight.”

  “I was tired, but I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Yes, so you said. Shall I climb in with you then?”

  “If that’s what you want,” she said in a tremulous voice.

  Placing his hands on either side of her, he leaned down. “Oh, I want a great many things, Mallory Gresham, and if you stay here in this bed, you’ll find out exactly what they are. So, you’re ready to be my wife now, are you?”

  “Y-yes,” she whispered.

  “Then why haven’t you taken off your robe? I’m sure you don’t generally sleep in that particular garment.”

  A flush crept up her neck and into her cheeks, a becoming pink that made her even prettier than she was already. “B-because of my nightgown.”

  “What about your nightgown?”

  “It’s…it’s sheer.”

  He stilled, his pulse beat faster as blood pooled low. “How sheer?”

  “Could we not just blow out the candles?”

  Abruptly curious, he shook his head. “No, we could not.”

  “Adam—”

  “I assure you, I’ll be seeing a great deal more of you than this nightgown.” He paused. “Unless you’re not actually planning to stay, after all.”

  Lines formed on her brow. “Of course I am.”

  “So you didn’t have another nightmare?”

  Her eyes turned round. “No.”

  “You didn’t wake up and feel afraid?”

  “I never went to sleep. I told you, I couldn’t rest.” She studied him with a questioning gaze. “Is that what you think? That I came here because I was too frightened to be by myself?”

  “Are you?” he charged.

  “No!”

  “Then why are you here,” he demanded, “since you sure as Hades didn’t want to be earlier?”

  “Because I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry, are you?”

  “Yes. I didn’t mean what I said at dinner. I was just nervous and scared, and I feel terrible for ruining our wedding night. I know I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I would ever want to do. Don’t be angry with me, Adam. Please.”

  “I’m not angry,” he denied, his heart twisting at her words.

  “Yes, you are, and you have every right to be.” Reaching up, she urged him to sit down next to her on the bed. When he did, she sat up and locked her arms around his chest, leaning her face against his shoulder. “I’m your wife. I should be with you.”

  “So, it’s guilt then, is it? You’re here to do your duty?”

  “No, I…no, I want you as well.”

  But in spite of her words, he could tell there was indeed a measure of guilt involved, as well as a desire for them not to be at odds. She wanted to be friends again, and she was willing to be intimate with him if it would soothe his wounded feelings. He realized she was being honest about being scared, which he had to admit was only natural given the fact that she’d never made love before.

  Part of him knew he ought to be offended that she was offering herself for reasons of obligation and guilt.

  Another part urged him not to be a fool.

  She’s in your bed. What more do you want?

  Love?

  But he would take whatever he could get for the moment and worry about the rest at another time. She was his wife, after all. He had days and months and years to woo her. Somehow, he would make her love him. If it took his whole life, he would find a way.

  Deciding he’d wasted enough of their wedding night already, he slid his hand into her hair and gently tipped her head back. Without giving her time to say another word, he took her mouth, parting her lips so he could delve inside.

  She shuddered, yielding to his demand, answering his claim with a willing response of her own. Tongues tangling, he drew on her with the hunger of a starving man, losing himself in her flavour and scent, roses and warm, womanly flesh that filled his senses and clouded his thoughts.

  At length, he broke their kiss, gazing into her vivid jewel-coloured eyes as he eased her slowly back onto the bed.

  “Well, now,” he said on a husky rasp. “Let’s take a look at this nightgown.”

  Mallory quivered, her pulse throbbing wildly in her veins.

  He’d forgiven her, she realized with relief—his anger now turned to passion. So too had her worries, as if his touch carried some magical property that had the power to drive away all doubt and fear and replace it with desire. So long as she was in his arms, nothing else seemed to matter. When she was with him, everything felt right. If only she’d reminded herself of that earlier, this evening’s trouble could have been avoided. As for what the morning might bring, she would deal with it then, whatever it might be.

  Despite her newfound confidence, however, she tensed when he opened her robe, her natural modesty asserting itself as he peeled the thin fabric away from her body. Closing her eyes, she waited, imagining his gaze roaming over the nearly transparent confection of silk and lace and the way her flesh was scarcely hidden beneath it.

  “Beautiful,” he said in a reverent tone. His fingers curved against her neck, caressing her in a slow, sleek glide that went from throat to collarbone, then down the length between her breasts. Her lips parted on a silent inhalation, a fine tremor radiating outward to the tips of her fingers and the ends of her toes, nerve endings sparking wherever he roamed.

  He went lower, taking his time as he skimmed his fingers over the flat plane of her stomach, pausing to circle around her navel before continuing on.

  Her eyes flashed wide when he stopped, gasping as he placed his palm just above the triangle of curls that lay at the juncture of her legs.

  “I approve your choice of attire,” he said. “It leaves just enough to the imagination to be interesting. A shame you’ll have so little opportunity to wear it.”

  “I won’t?” she asked breathlessly.

  “No.” His fingers glided upward again, slowing as they reached her breast. “Since I have every intention of taking it off you.” He flicked a thumb over one nipple. “And keeping it off you.”

  A fresh gasp filled her lungs, along with a shudder that was as shocking as it was exciting.

  Rather than reaching immediately for the hem of her nightgown though, he leaned forward and crushed his mouth to hers again, kissing her with an intensity that was hot and lush and voluptuous. He was tender yet demanding, patient yet rash, eliciting a range of sensations that sent her spinning.

  All the while, his hands were far from idle, strumming in languorous caresses over her breasts and belly, her hips and thighs. The thin layer of silk that separated them created a tantalizing friction, one she was helpless to resist as her body turned aching and pliant.

  The room faded, shrinking down so that it seemed as if no one and nothing else existed except Adam and the bed on which the two of them lay.

  Abandoning her mouth, he dappled her skin with a line of kisses, his lips moving over her cheeks and eyelids, her temples and chin and neck. Locating a particularly sensitive area behind her ear, he drew the edge of his tongue over the spot in a slow glide before blowing against it. His warm breath sent concussive shivers racing deep inside her veins, then again as he kissed his way downward until he reached her breasts.

  She arched in a delirious haze as he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling her through its lace covering. Her senses caught fire, wet heat pooling between her thighs as if the two spots were somehow connected. She ought to have been mortified,
she supposed, or at least faintly stunned. Instead she found herself wanting more—craving his kiss, his touch, his possession, whatever it might entail.

  As though he were attuned to her thoughts, one of his wandering hands eased beneath her hem, the material gathering against his wrist as his fingers glided upward. From calf to knee to thigh, he crept higher, her flesh burning everywhere he touched. When he reached her inner thigh, he paused, fanning his thumb in a wide arc that made her flesh yearn and quiver as it turned weak as jelly.

  Breath soughed from her parted lips, as she resisted the contrary urge to draw her legs closed, feeling suddenly and inexplicably shy. But she needn’t have worried as he continued upward, his hand retracing the path he’d already forged once through the opposite side of the silk.

  Reaching the breast on which he’d been feasting, he raised his head and replaced his mouth with his hand, cupping her fully inside his wide, capable palm. Meeting her gaze, he fondled her with a lavish caress that made her moan. “Touch me,” he murmured.

  For a moment, she wasn’t sure she could speak, too awash with emotion to respond.

  Leaning over, he kissed her again, his mouth uncompromising against her own. “Touch me,” he ordered.

  “W-where?” she panted.

  “Anywhere,” he said, punctuating his words with sultry, drugging kisses. “Everywhere. I have to have your hands on me.”

  Wanting to please him, to pleasure him as he was pleasuring her, she laid trembling fingers against his cheek. His skin was faintly rough with an evening’s growth of whiskers, mildly abrasive in a way that only added enjoyment to his kiss.

  As she watched, he closed his eyes, clearly approving the contact despite the innocence of the location. Trailing her fingers lower, she slid them over his bottom lip, finding it silky and warm.

  She jumped when he opened his mouth and drew one of her fingers inside, her body throbbing as he swirled his tongue around it as if he were enjoying a sugar stick.

  After giving her a teasing, painless bite, he let her go. “Continue,” he said. “Touch me more.”

  But how could she when he did such wicked things? When his fingers continued playing against her breast in ways that were driving her half-mad?

  Somehow though, she did as he asked, sliding her hand along his throat to his chest where the edges of his robe parted to reveal a section of his taut, hair-roughened muscles. With a boldness that surprised her, she eased her hand beneath the lapel and traced his form, intrigued by the contrasts in textures as well as the warmth, finding him delectably toasty.

  In response, Adam pulled in a breath, clearly enraptured by her tentative exploration, the look on his face encouraging her to proceed. Without intending to, she flicked her fingertip over his flat male nipple, causing the nub to draw even tighter.

  He gave her nipple an answering pinch, using just enough pressure to send a sharp, throbbing ache straight to the place between her thighs. Her legs shifted restlessly, her body afire.

  With an ease that astonished her, he stripped off her robe, then just as quickly cast her nightgown onto the floor after it. She barely had an instant to acknowledge her nakedness, or for her shyness to return, before he deftly parted her thighs and slid a long finger inside her.

  Her eyes flew open, a gasp issuing from her throat that turned instantly to a moan, as a flood of the most extraordinary pleasure burst inside her.

  Laying her back against the sheets, he fastened his lips to one of her breasts again, drawing upon her with a wet suction that was just this side of heaven. And all the while, he stroked her, his finger moving inside in a steady, soul-stealing rhythm.

  When he added a second finger, her mind grew dim, senses caught in a torrent of pleasure from which there could be no escape. Nor did she wish there to be, all inhibition seemingly erased as his two fingers worked her slick centre to devastating purpose.

  He eased her thighs farther apart and caressed her even more intimately, moans she couldn’t hold back issuing from her mouth in short, staccato bursts. Her hands curled against the bedclothes, nails digging into the linens with a grip that threatened to leave rips. Then suddenly he pressed her with the heel of his palm, rubbing her in a way that made stars explode behind her eyelids.

  The room spun, her body caught in a maelstrom of delight that had her hips arching upward as if to capture more. Pleasure rippled through her in waves as reality shifted on its axis.

  Sighing, she sank back.

  Floating.

  Smiling.

  But if she imagined she’d reached the heights of bliss, she was quickly disabused of the notion as he slid down her body and settled himself between her legs. Dazed, she couldn’t speak as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, then slid his hands beneath her buttocks to angle her toward him.

  This is it. He’s going to have me now, she thought. Yet if that was the case, why was he still wearing his robe? And why had he stretched himself across the mattress in a way that didn’t seem quite right?

  Their gazes met over the length of her naked form, his large hands gripping her, controlling her. “You’re small and I could cause you a lot of pain,” he said in a gravelly voice. “I plan to make sure you’re good and ready when I take you. Don’t be shocked, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like this.”

  Like what?

  The question barely formed in her mind before Adam leaned low and kissed her in a place that made her eyes open wide and every last bit of air whoosh from her lungs.

  She shuddered, hips twisting in his hands. But he held her steady, forcing her to accept the possession of his mouth, as his tongue darted in and out to lick and suckle in the most overwhelming way.

  He’d told her not to be shocked, but she was.

  He’d promised she would like the things he was doing to her body, and he was right. More than right, pleasure sizzling through her veins and sinew, all the way to her bones.

  A low, keening cry warbled from her lips—hot, violent need pounding inside her as his touch erased some last lingering bit of maidenly reserve. She rolled her head against the pillow, writhing in his grasp, wanting more, wanting him.

  Reaching down, she threaded her fingers into his hair and pressed him closer. She thought she heard him chuckle before he renewed his efforts in a way that soon had her soaring with rapture.

  He drove her up, pushing her over her peak, only to start again seconds after. She climaxed, how many times she didn’t know, her mind and body utterly saturated in intense sensual gratification. By the time he stopped, she was nearly insensate, limp and lax and exhausted.

  She watched out of dazed eyes as he sat up and stripped off his robe, revealing his large, powerful body, and the big, heavy arousal that jutted from his hips. She thought she saw his shaft pulse, a drop of moisture appearing at the tip.

  Under different circumstances, she might have experienced a few qualms, but she was too relaxed to be anxious, too satiated to do more than admire his impressive physique—and the first male member she’d ever glimpsed.

  Stretching out beside her, he took her in his arms.

  “Adam, I don’t think I can, you know…again,” she whispered.

  “Come?”

  She nodded. “But I’m ready now. I want you to take your ease.”

  He smiled. “Oh, I will. And you will too. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Pulling her tighter, he crushed her mouth beneath his, abruptly impatient, suddenly wild. He kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough, as if they’d passed some point from which there was no return. And there was no going back, she realized, their intimacy forging a bond that could never be undone. Nor did she want it to be, suddenly revelling in their closeness.

  Wanting to please him, she answered his passion, kissing him back with every ounce of energy that remained in her body. He’d given her such pleasure already. He deserved to find his own.

  Yet, to her complete amazement, her desire soon began to reawaken, Adam stroking her with a clea
r master’s touch.

  Aching and needy, she clung, running her palms over the warm, smooth length of his back and shoulders, then lower along his spine in a move that made his muscles ripple with clear approval.

  Senses awash, she drank in his delectable, brandy-tinged taste, breathed in the heady musk of his skin, which turned her hot and giddy. Delirious with passion, she tangled her fingers in his hair and held him closer, angling her mouth and tongue so that she could return his kisses with the same fervid ardour as he displayed.

  With the sound of her unsteady breath ringing in her ears and her desire heightened once more to a fever pitch, she made no demur when he parted her thighs and settled himself over her.

  Without further preliminaries, he thrust inside, sheathing himself so that he only went as deep as her body could accept. Pausing, he held himself steady and leaned down to brush soothing, tender kisses over her trembling mouth. Then he thrust again, causing a sharp burst of pain to twist inside her.

  She cried out, unable to think or breathe as she struggled to adjust to the sensation of having him inside her—his shaft so large that it seemed a miracle they fit together at all.

  Yet, inexplicably, the pain began to recede, the ravenous hunger he’d awakened earlier returning to lay siege to both her body and her mind.

  As if aware of the change, he eased back, then thrust again, lodging himself even deeper, her channel growing hotter and wetter than before, leaving her so slick that his powerful penetration seemed exactly right.

  Absolutely perfect.

  Murmuring endearments into her ear, he coaxed her to wrap her legs around his waist. Then he began to move, setting up a rhythm that made her toes curl with delight and her heart hammer at a mad pace inside her chest.

  Moaning, she clutched her arms around his wide shoulders and closed her eyes, abandoned to the ecstasy rippling through her like a rising tide. He leaned low and took her mouth, using his tongue to ravish her with the same thoroughness he was using to claim her below. The double penetration was nearly her undoing, her senses all but overwhelmed as a new rush of longing burned bonfire hot. She quaked, wondering if she might go insane from the force of the sensations rippling through her, and from the hard, raw, yearning demand that pounded like a gale.